There is a rumor going around that in the 1960s any reasonable adult in search of casual sex could find it in a New York minute. But Neil Simon’s “Last of the Red Hot Lovers,” which first opened on Broadway in 1969, proves there were exceptions. And the Schoolhouse Theater’s lighthearted new production of that comedy, in the theater’s newly renovated space, brings back those days with a clear eye and a warm heart.

Barney Cashman, played by Kevin Cristaldi, is a middle-aged, second-generation Manhattan fish restaurateur whose only amorous experience before he met his wife in high school was 15 minutes with a 44-year-old prostitute in Newark. He has never been unfaithful. But at 47, with a growing awareness of his own mortality, he decides to join the sexual revolution.

Not as easy as it sounds.

Things might have gone more smoothly if Barney had chosen a different meeting place for his trysts. His mother’s studio apartment on East 37th Street is convenient, tidy and pleasant, with traditional furniture (scenic design by Jason Bolen) and a sunny view. But it has no bedroom, only a convertible sofa bed. And he has to be out (leaving behind no evidence of his crimes) by 5 p.m., when Mom finishes her volunteer job at Mount Sinai Hospital. That’s why he brings his own glassware.

Over two acts, Barney attempts three assignations, each sadder and funnier than the last. The first date, Elaine Navazio, is a voluptuous married woman who frequents Barney’s restaurant. Anette Michelle Sanders adopts an interesting period look for the role: part Christina Hendricks in “Mad Men,” part Agnes Moorehead in “Bewitched.”

Elaine is ready to get down to business, even though Barney has forgotten her name and apparently plans to talk her to death before touching her. It’s a tribute to Mr. Cristaldi’s textured performance that we are never completely sure whether Barney really wants to get to know Elaine better or is just terrified of getting physical.

“So are you going to make the first move?” Elaine asks. A bit later she is forced into a follow-up question: “What’s it going to be?” Ms. Sanders’s own best move is her coughing fit, with peculiar noises worthy of another Simon character, Felix Unger from “The Odd Couple.” Afterward she asks for a cigarette.

Barney goes for a completely different type the next time. Lauren Currie Lewis makes her entrance as Bobbi Michele in a half-mod, half-hippie look, with an oversize floppy hat, un-self-conscious flashes of midriff and the requisite miniskirt. Kimberly Matela’s costume design is groovy. And Bobbi’s false eyelashes are visible from the fifth row.

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Elaine Navazio, played by Anette Michelle Sanders, is an amorous married woman who’s annoyed by Barney’s chattering.CreditJason Russo

Bobbi is an actress and singer whom Barney met in the park. Ms. Lewis gives a high-energy comic performance that makes it delightfully clear through seemingly throwaway lines that Bobbi is thoroughly deranged. She frets about her lesbian Nazi vocal-coach roommate and a mysterious, powerful Palm Springs man who she believes kidnapped her dog. The sanest thing Bobbi does is smoke marijuana to calm her nerves, and she persuades Barney to join her. Oddly, they smoke two separate joints, rather than sharing one (as I have been told was the custom).

Finally, Barney invites his wife’s friend, Jeanette Fisher — played by Helen Greenberg — to his lair. But when he opens the door to Jeanette in Act II, it looks as if Barney’s mother has shown up unexpectedly. Granted, 39 seemed older a half century ago than it does now; in the ’40s and ’50s, people married in their 20s, so 39 was practically mother-of-the-bride time.

With different hair, makeup and clothing, Ms. Greenberg might look quite youthful. But in this particular dowdy midcentury dress and dippy hat while clutching her clutch purse, Jeanette seems at least half a generation older than Barney. Ms. Greenberg gives a deliciously morbid performance, self-diagnosing her character’s melancholia as “complete and total despair.” Barney has upgraded his seduction-entertainment kit to include sparkling wine and brand-new champagne flutes, and he has gained confidence, but Jeanette seems in no mood for romance. Come to think of it, Jeanette seems in no mood for breathing.

Pamela Moller Kareman has directed the production with palpable affection. Some of Mr. Simon’s humor sits awkwardly between being outdated and having vintage charm, and it takes almost unnaturally tight staging to keep the one-liners flying at tennis-match speed. There are times when the exchanges are not as snappy as they could be, but the double-entendres still hit their marks. And many lines have stood the test of time, like Barney’s panicked observation after a few hits of cannabis: “I can hear my eyes blinking.”

“Last of the Red Hot Lovers,” by Neil Simon, is at the Schoolhouse Theater, 3 Owens Road, Croton Falls, through June 30. Information: (914) 277-8477 or schoolhousetheater.org.

A version of this article appears in print on , Section WE, Page 9 of the New York edition with the headline: A Search for Sexual Freedom Gone Awry. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe